Sex Without Love
by CeliaEquus
Summary: When Steve asks Phil to be his first, Phil has no idea that he's about to have his heart broken. But then he appears to be moving on, and Steve realises that that isn't what he wants. Can he win Phil back, or has he made an irreversible mistake? Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, or any other Marvel thingummies, nor am I making money from this. Capsicoul. Rated for a reason.
1. Steve Loses His Virginity

"Steve Loses His Virginity"

"So handsome," Phil whispered, continuing to kiss his way down Steve's chest. "So beautifully made. God, your parents did a good job."

"That's the serum," Steve said, watching Phil with intense interest.

"You're forgetting." Phil bit the patch of skin just below Steve's navel. "The first pictures I ever saw of you were from before the serum." He kissed the bite mark, and Steve groaned. "I thought you were beautiful then."

"Really?"

"Mmm-_hmm_."

* * *

When Steve had approached Coulson at the Avengers Mansion one day, the agent had no idea what was going to happen.

"I want to learn about sex," Steve said bluntly. Phil's jaw nearly dropped. "I tried the internet, but the stuff on there is just plain scary. There aren't many people I know who'd I'd trust this to. And when it comes to convenience, it's either got to be your or Bruce. Bruce has his… issues, and I don't think he's available anyway. Clint and Natasha said that you're single, and that you have a crush on me. Is this true?"

Phil's brain had kind of hit pause at the word 'sex'; he ran through the rest of Steve's convoluted speech in his head, picking out only the relevant information.

"Yes," he said. "What do you want to know?"

As it turned out, what Steve wanted to 'know' was the full experience. Full. Experience. Both sides of the coin. And Phil had always been an excellent – and _thorough_ – teacher, in all that he did.

Which is why they had selected a time and place (Friday, Phil's room, nine p.m.), and Phil had made sure they would be well-equipped and, just as important, left alone.

Which is why he had undressed Steve slowly, the dim lighting painting shadows on his muscles, making them stand out.

Which is why they fell to the bed naked, Steve's head on the pillows, and Phil straddling his body.

"How do you want to start?" he asked. Steve shrugged.

"I don't know," he said. "You're here to tell me."

Phil bit his lip, trying to ignore the sharp spike of lust that made its way down his body in a flash. He leaned down and kissed Steve gently. The soldier had clearly had experience in this, because he soon took over, and the kiss took on a decidedly French flavour. Phil gasped, sliding his body down further, and moaned into Steve's mouth when he felt the erection behind him.

"That's it," he whispered. "Yes. We'll play it this way."

It was gratifying to hear Steve's noise of disappointment as Phil broke the kiss, and reached over to his nightstand to retrieve the essential items. He rocked backwards, enjoying the dark look in Steve's eyes, as he opened the box of condoms. He took one, tossed the box to the other side of the bed, and slid further down until he was over Steve's legs.

"Sensitive, huh?" he asked as Steve's hips bucked up. Phil sat on the soldier's thighs to hold him down while he sheathed Steve's erection in the condom. He'd warmed the lube by sitting it on a hot water bottle earlier. Now, stretching himself out, he was glad his last boyfriend had shown him that trick. "Ready?"

"Yeah," Steve said. "This is all real important, isn't it?"

"What, the protection and the lubrication? Yeah, it is." He spoke through gritted teeth. Steve seemed to be getting impatient, if the fidgeting of his hands was any indication. He moved up, held steady, and lowered himself with a loud groan.

"Oh, yes," Steve hissed. He grabbed Phil's hips, stopping him. "Hold it. Just… let me get myself together, okay?"

Phil couldn't speak; he just nodded, gripping Steve's muscled arms. He was having trouble keeping control as well; and as the one leading this liaison, he had to maintain some degree of composure. It wouldn't do for things to end… abruptly.

It wasn't long before he was bracing himself as Steve pulled him down, right to the hilt. Phil grit his teeth, his short fingernails leaving moon-shaped indentations in Steve's skin, and tried to lift. Steve held him in place.

"Where d'you think you're going, soldier?" he said.

"N-nowhere. But this is… this is how it's…" Steve began to move him back forth, and Phil gasped shakily. "How it's done?" he finished weakly.

"Okay." Steve let go. Half-disappointed and half-relieved, Phil began to raise and lower himself, just slowly at first, getting used to Steve's size. It had been way too long, and he was feeling the burn of overwhelming friction.

"You see?" he said. Steve nodded politely. Phil could have shot himself. Of course it would take more than this to move a super soldier. _The_ super soldier. He leaned forward to rest his lower arms on Steve's chest, his elbows nearly touching the perfect six-pack. Like this, he had more control, and he raised his hips, further this time, and lowered with more force.

"Oh God, that's it," Steve said. Phil basked in his look of shocked ecstasy, and did it again. Each time, Steve's hips bucked in reaction, hitting all the rights spots inside. "Oh, Coulson, that's so good."

Phil chuckled. That stopped when Steve grabbed his thighs. The sheer power in those hands made him whimper.

"Call me Phil," he whispered.

"Phil… yes, Phil… Can I…?"

Phil nodded hastily, not caring what the captain was asking. He shivered as one hand began to move up to cup his ass. A finger from the other dipped down, tracing his balls, then stroking where he and Steve were so intimately connected. He shuddered, sheathing himself with more speed. Steve moaned, and Phil felt it right through his entire body. He clenched, and Steve clutched his hips.

"More," his said, and he began to push Phil up and down, faster, harder, and Phil collapsed onto his chest. This was so good. Being taken with such strength – he was sure there would be hand-shaped bruises – nearly blew his mind.

"You're so strong," Phil said, and he licked the perspiration on Steve's chest and neck, moving up to the soldier's jaw. "So good. So sexy." Steve huffed a short laugh, and sped up his movements. Phil whimpered again, and buried his face in Steve's neck, unable to speak anymore.

"Mmm…" Steve thrust up once more, and Phil could feel the warmth and pulsations that signalled Steve's climax. He forced himself to calm down, and waited for the soldier to let go. The moment he did, Phil climbed off, wincing at the loss. Steve made a small noise, then looked at Phil.

"You want the other side of the coin?" the agent asked. Steve looked blank for a moment, then grinned, and nodded.

"So you didn't…?"

"No. I made sure I didn't." Steve looked a bit disappointed. "If I wasn't being careful, I wouldn't have lasted even halfway through. You made it kind of difficult when you took over like that." Phil grinned. "_Very_ sexy. You're a natural."

"So are you going to…?" Steve gestured vaguely. "Soon?"

"Just catching my breath." He maintained eye contact as he opened another condom, and slowly slid it on. He picked up the bottle of lube, knowing he'd have to be even more careful. This was Steve's first time, and it had to be good. No. It had to be _great_. It had to be the best. Maybe if it was really good, Steve would want to do this with him again?

He coated his fingers, then lowered his hand between Steve's legs.

"I'm going to stretch you out first," Phil said. Steve nodded. "Using plenty of lubrication. There are a number of things you can use for this, but specially-made lube is the best and safest." He slid one finger in, and paid attention to the way Steve's eyes screwed shut immediately. "Failing that, saliva or Vaseline."

"Uh-huh?"

"Yeah." Phil made sure to spread the lube. "Ready for another finger?"

"Of course. It takes a lot to hurt me."

Phil hummed as he added another finger, and began to scissor Steve open. "Relax as much as you can." Steve looked at him. "It helps."

Steve's head dropped back onto the pillows, and Phil was able to add another finger comfortably, and stretch the soldier further. He'd probably be okay after another minute of this. A deeper probe caused a hitch in Steve's breath. Phil grinned. There it was.

"What was that?" Steve asked, looking at Phil slack-jawed. The agent fought the urge to waggle his eyebrows.

"Your prostate," he said. "Like this?"

"Oh yeah."

"It gets better when something… bigger, is poking it."

Steve moaned. Phil took that as his cue. He lined up, holding Steve's partial erection out of the way, and began to push in.

"Don't you look gorgeous," he remarked, stroking Steve's cheek gently. The soldier looked up at him, and Phil leaned down for a kiss. The moment their tongues met, he pushed halfway in. Steve bucked, impaling himself further. In seconds, Phil was completely submerged, and it took every remaining breath in his body not to finish then and there.

"Are you going to move?" Steve mumbled into his mouth. Phil felt a twinge of frustration, but reminded himself that Steve was a chemically-enhanced being who healed faster than almost anyone else. Of course he was less sensitive.

"Sure thing," he said. He pulled out nearly the whole way, then thrust back in.

Steve was quite vocal, telling Phil what he liked, when to pick up the pace, or force, or depth. Phil peppered his skin with kisses and nips, caressing his face and sides, and entangling his fingers in Steve's blonde hair. All the time, his body automatically responded to Steve's demands, both physical and verbal. It was like they were made for each other.

"How's that?" Phil whispered. Steve was hard again, hips undulating against Phil's. It was sexy, and beautiful, and so much more.

"Good. So good."

Without being asked, Phil's smooth thrusts hit Steve's sensitive spot harder, becoming relentless in his need to get both of them off before he melted from the heat. Steve was still tight, and hot, and gripped Phil so wonderfully. Each clench brought him closer to the edge.

"You're the most gorgeous man I've ever known," Phil said. "Gorgeous eyes," he kissed Steve's eyelids, "gorgeous lips," kissed them, "gorgeous hands," entwined their fingers, "and an even more gorgeous soul. Adore you so much. _So much_."

Steve bit his bottom lip. He moaned when Phil began to jerk him off with a spit-covered palm.

"Will you come for me? Come for me, Steve."

He squeezed, twisted his hand, and Steve erupted, his body arching off the bed. Phil let go, thrusting as long as he could, even after Steve had relaxed back into the mattress. Once he was too soft and sensitive, Phil pulled out, removed and tied off both condoms, and threw them with unerring accuracy into the wastebasket. That done, he collapsed onto the bed beside Steve, and turned his head to look at the soldier as he cleaned him off with tissues.

"Okay?" he asked. Steve nodded, breathing faster than usual. "How're you feeling?"

Steve grinned slowly, and rolled onto his side to face Phil, stilling his hand. "That was great. It was… it was life-changing. I never knew sex could be that good. Some of the stuff I read online kind of scared the heck out of me." He patted Phil's shoulder. "Thanks, Agent Coulson."

"Phil."

"That's right. Thanks, Phil."

"You're welcome," Phil said, a bit hurt and confused. "Stay as long as you want." _Please stay_. "There's no hurry."

"Nah. Better not. Nobody knows that I'm here; they won't know where to find me."

"Oh. Okay. You can, uh, come back anytime. I'm always there for you; whatever you need."

Steve smiled, but shook his head. "I won't bother you about this again. I know it was kind of an imposition in the first place. Now I know there's nothing to be scared about," he shrugged, "I'm okay with doing it with other people."

Phil felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. No, worse than that. It felt like when Loki killed him (for all that he hadn't stayed dead). A stab wound, right in the left side of the chest. Steve was too busy getting up and getting dressed to notice his anguish.

"Thanks again, Phil." He realised that Steve was already clothed and at the bedroom door, smiling back at Phil. "See you later. Have a nice night!"

"Yeah. You, too," Phil said softly. Steve waved as he left, closing the door gently behind him.

Phil put away the box of condoms and the bottle, threw out the tissues, and then lay back on his bed where he had deflowered Steve Rogers, the man he couldn't help but love.

And wonder where he had gone wrong.

* * *

Steve returned to his room, feeling different. He didn't think that losing his virginity really would turn out to be such a big thing, change him so much.

But being that close to someone, being treated like something precious – instead of thinking that his strength made it unnecessary to take care of him – and having such nice, flattering things said made him feel so warm, and so alive. And the feeling of being in someone, and having someone else in him… he didn't know which was better. Just having that shared body and complete intimacy.

He blushed as the memory made him hard again. His skin was losing its sensitivity already, and he had to hurry. He could have gone back to Phil's room – it was closer – but he'd taken up enough of the agent's time. Besides, with his line of work, he needed as much sleep as he could get. Just one of the hazards of working for SHIELD.

Back in his room, Steve locked the door, collapsed onto his bed, and worked his pants down enough to pull his erection out, and work it until he was spent again, replaying the look on Phil's face as he spoke.

He couldn't wait to have sex again. Lots of people had already shown interest; he had some great choices to pick from.

Who should he choose first?

* * *

**New Capsicoul, because this is an unused prompt from the Avengers Kink Meme, and because the good folks at Cap-Coulson are being terribly encouraging. What can I say? I'm easily convinced. Or something.**

***Nervous grin***


	2. The Cellist

"The Cellist"

"Hey, Annabel."

"Phil? What's wrong, bro?"

Usually, Phil Coulson winced when someone called him 'bro'. But he didn't mind his half-sister saying it. He'd only found her a few years ago; they had a lot of time to make up for, including sisterly teasing.

"You know how I can't tell you anything about my work?"

"Yeah. Stupid rule, but I can understand difficult contracts. That asshole I used to work for before I moved to Portland… Thanks for getting me out of that, by the way. How did you swing it?"

"Annabel, that's one of those things I can't tell you."

"Or you'd have to kill me?"

"Not that drastic. Not for my own baby sister, anyway."

"So if I wasn't your sister—"

"Moving on," he said dryly. She giggled, sounding more like a teenager than her mid-thirties self. "How's the cello-playing coming along?"

"Great. Remind me to send you the orchestra's next CD. We're playing… Pachelbel's Canon in D." He could picture the sneer on her sweet face, just as he could hear it in her voice. "I can't wait for this tour to be over. When're you going to come visit?"

"I don't know. I'll try to get some time off."

"Speaking of work, what were you going to say?"

"Hmm?" He thought back over the conversation. "That's right. Well, my work kind of _might_ or might not involve, uh… working with." He coughed. "Captain America."

There was silence for about three seconds. Then Annabel squealed.

"That's so _cool_," she said.

"Women your age should never use the word 'cool'."

"Our generation made that word popular."

"I'm pretty sure… never mind. Anyway, he asked me to, uh…" Phil went red. "To sleep with him. And I don't mean sleep. He left before that. Basically, after it was over, he left."

"…You had _sex_ with _Captain America_? Okay, no, you're still my brother, so I don't want details. But tell me everything that's important. It sounds like something's gone wrong. I want to work out what it is, and whether I have to hop on a plane to New York to kill the man who hurt my brother. Superhero or no superhero."

"Thanks." Then Phil told her the conversation, word for word. Annabel actually growled at the words 'I'm okay with doing it with other people'. He paused, and she told him to continue. He did, until the conversation's end.

"Okay, so I thought James was an asshole; but _this_ guy?"

"Look, Anna, I just figure that he's not experienced with relationships. At all. He'd never had sex before, he's technically only in his twenties, and it's not like there was a pre-existing emotional attachment."

"'Pre-existing' what? There was on _your_ side, Phil!"

He moved the phone to his other ear, trying to shake out the ringing. "He's a really great guy otherwise, Annabel. If you met him—"

"If I met him I'd rip his throat out for hurting you, then sharpen his vocal chords to castrate him, and keep the chords afterwards as replacement cello strings!"

Okay, so my sister should be working at SHIELD, not in an orchestra, Phil thought. Better keep her away from Natasha Romanov. "It's either that he has no interest in me – at all – or I'm just… no good at it." And that wasn't emasculating at all.

Again, Annabel didn't reply right away. "Right, so I can't actually reassure you and say that I'm sure you're great at sex because you're my brother, and that's all kinds of creepy, and also kind of Freudian. However…" And he could hear her smirk. He could hear the goddamn Coulson smirk even before she spoke. "I have a friend in New York. He's gay, and single. Want me to set you up on a date with him?"

"First, you bemoan my broken heart. Now you want to make a friend of yours a rebound?"

"Hey, you'd be a rebound for him, too. His last boyfriend used to hit him, so we reported him, bad guy's in jail, and Evan needs a distraction."

"You know, if ever you decide to change careers, maybe you should be a pimp?"

"I'll give him your number, okay?"

"I'm too busy at the moment."

"With this secret work which involves hanging out with asshole Avengers?"

"They're not all assholes. The Hulk is very polite."

She snorted. "Just think about it, alright? Bye, Phil."

"Bye, Annabel."

* * *

It wasn't until Agent Gregory was seen leaving Steve's room on the Helicarrier that Phil realised how serious he had been about seeing other people. He'd been so casual, almost cavalier when he said that he didn't mind being with others. It didn't seem to be in keeping with what Phil thought he knew of Steve's character, to form a relationship with a co-worker. (He conveniently ignored the fact that he and Steve worked together, and that Peggy Carter had technically been Steve's boss.)

Phil was the one who saw the agent saying good-bye to Steve, planting a steamy kiss on the soldier's lips, before sauntering off. Steve watched him go, then went back into his room, the scratch marks on his back visible from a mile away, let alone around the corner at the end of the corridor.

If Phil was the vengeful type – and, okay, he was, but not in this – he would've proceeded to make Agent Gregory's life very difficult. But for Steve's sake, and because Gregory was clearly more the captain's type, Phil would leave them alone, treat both without discrimination. No favouritism, either. He didn't want people to question whether he had been replaced or compromised again, like the last time he was nice to someone without an obvious motive.

Hadn't that been a fun time for everyone…

So when the next major mission, involving both SHIELD and the Avengers against Hydra, went belly-up and all operatives were taken hostage, they would all be rescued equally. That was the professional thing to do.

* * *

Fury, Hill, and Coulson looked at the map. They only had a limited amount of time to memorise it before the enemy caught on and disabled the security scan Stark had going.

"They're down on this level," Fury said. It was kind of unnecessary; the technology showed them where each person was, and the members of Hydra were walking to and fro, in some kind of pattern. Chances are, the pattern could change at any moment, and no doubt would as soon as the scan was discovered.

"That building's only five minutes from where we are now, as the Quinjet flies," Phil said. He was studying the map through video conference; Hill and Fury were at headquarters. Hill glanced up at him.

"There is no way anyone can get there," she said. "The few field agents we sent along have either been kidnapped as well, or are recovering from injuries. Medical said that they can't go anywhere in their collective state."

"Listen, I can… What's that?"

The map was starting to fizzle. "Someone's found it," Fury said. He typed in code after code. Phil had already started arming himself. "Son of a…"

Phil sighed. "Do we know who set up the tech that's holding Thor, Rogers, and Banner?"

"Yeah," Fury said. He glanced at his file. "Intel says that it's a guy nicknamed Sunshine."

"Sunshine?"

"His first name is Ray."

Hill snorted. Then her eyes narrowed. "Phil, you're not going out there."

"I won't be long," he said. Fury's head snapped up, just as the 3D map disappeared completely.

"You're still recovering _yourself_, agent," he snapped. "Stand down."

"All due respect, sir, you're more than five minutes away. How do you plan to stop me?"

Then Phil ceased communications, and ran out the door. He shouted instructions to a pilot, and was dropped off as close as they could get to the site. Just as Phil was about to climb out, Fury got through on the comms.

"Stand _down_, Agent Coulson," he said. The pilot looked from one to the other.

"Sir?" he asked. Phil pushed open the hatch.

"I'll let you know as soon as extraction's over," he said. He saluted, then ran.

* * *

Phil was cool and collected when he arrived at the Hydra base where his people were being held. He flashed his ID long enough to distract the guards, and take them out with laughingly simple self-defence manoeuvres. He knocked each on the head with the butt of their guns to make sure, tied them up, and left them nearby. Donning one's clothes, and mourning having to leave his own behind, he hid his tie up his sleeve. Never knew when it might come in handy. (Though he had a fairly good idea.) At least the uniform would buy him a few seconds before someone realised that he wasn't from Hydra.

Inside, he walked along three different corridors unchallenged. He heard a toilet flush as he passed a bathroom, and concealed himself around the corner. Two men came out; one was burly and grotesque, the other shorter, with silver-rimmed glasses on his nose, a swipe card, and an advanced-looking phone peeking over the top of his pocket.

It took a heavy swing of one gun, and then the other, to knock the goon to the floor. The small man turned around, and was immediately aiming what looked like a taser at Phil.

Two could play at this game.

"That's not as good as a Stark taser," he said. "I hate the man, but even I can admit that." The other one didn't speak. "Your name Ray?"

There was a groan from the man on the ground. Phil frowned slightly. This man might have hurt someone in his team. He placed his right foot on the side of the man's head, and twisted it to the side. There was a distinct crack of a neck breaking.

"If you don't tell me, I'm afraid I'm going to have to find out by force; and I don't need you alive to read your tag. Or," Phil held up a small gadget, "obtain your DNA." He smiled politely. "Again, I hate Stark, but I love his tech."

He waited three seconds. On the fourth second he had knocked the taser to the ground with one kick; on the fifth second the enemy was flat on his back with another kick; by the seventh second, Phil was taking advantage of the other man's dazed confusion to check his ID.

Yep. This was Sunshine.

"Thank you for your co-operation," he said.

And by the fifteenth second, Sunshine was unconscious, his tongue was cut out, and his fingers were bloodied stumps. Phil emptied the technician's pockets, tucking the spoils in the lining of his jacket, and then stood up.

Less than ten minutes later, he had killed three more members of Hydra, trapped another five in a room now filled with gas, and even captured the leader and left him somewhere convenient. Honestly; the quality of villains these days was unspeakably disappointing.

Now he stood outside the door. Unsurprisingly, it was locked.

Even more unsurprisingly, Sunshine's pass opened the door.

* * *

"Your little organisation has been hacking our systems," one of the Hydra agents said, walking back and forth in front of the prisoners. Steve tracked his movements, unable to move his head, just his eyes. No matter how much he struggled, his body simply wouldn't do what it was told. "It makes you seem almost redundant, Stark, if they are able to get through our systems. We found them in a few minutes, of course." He studied his nails. "I am sure you won't be missed."

None of them could reply. The Hydra man smirked, making eye contact with each captive. Steve wondered if everyone else felt just as violated, just as singled out.

"We will be waiting for your rescuers," he continued, returning to the side. Four men either side of the door. Steve hoped that Fury had sent a crack team. They'd need one to defeat the enemy agents along the way, and still be able to take down the agents now keeping watch.

It was a hell of a shock to see one person silhouetted against the light of the corridor.

Even more of a shock when he recognised their sole rescuer.

* * *

Phil had been expected. Well, clearly someone had been expected. His Avengers and agents were against the wall, some draped over others, all unable to move due to what he presumed was a force-field. There was worry in their eyes, as Phil pretended not to notice the Hydra agents either side of him. He could make out the shapes in the reflection of the bubble surrounding his team; looked like eight in all. Good. He was getting a bit tired, and didn't feel like a challenge.

It was easy enough to aim and fire the one gun he had at the ready. He angled it at the bubble, but away from himself. It bounced off the force-field and hit one of the agents. Well, that was too easy.

_Bor_-ing.

"Gonna just stand there like dolls in a shop window, or are you actually gonna give me something to do?" he asked, not even bothering to turn.

"Fire!" one of the agents shouted.

Oh please, Phil thought, dropping to his feet and rolling towards the door, while bullets pinged off the bubble. Some of the men – clearly not good at angles – hit the others. He could tell from a glance that three were wounded, one severely. He pulled one of his concealed weapons and took the other two out of the game. Using the first guy's body as a shield, he waited for an opportune moment.

Dropping the body, he aimed guns at either side, one in each hand, and fired, taking out the nearest on either side. Two more to go.

"Not big talkers, huh?" he remarked. He darted out of the room, closing the door behind him. They took the bait. As soon as he felt one tug on the handle, he rammed the door forwards, and heard the satisfying crack of a broken nose. He ducked in time to avoid a bullet from guy number eight. A bullet to his gut, one to his head, and another to the agent with a broken nose… and that was it. Too easy. He didn't even get a chance to get hands-on.

"Kind of disappointing," he muttered, moving his shoulders and cracking his neck. He turned to the others. "You can move your eyelids?" They all blinked, and he smiled. "Good." He closed the door, and checked the room. "No more bad guys? Even better. I think there were about twenty. If there were, and no more have been called in, we should just be able to walk out." He removed Sunshine's gadgetry, and held each up for inspection. "Blink if you recognise the one which will get you out."

Some minutes of confusing mass-blinking passed, until Phil entrusted the job to Stark, who used Morse Code to communicate. Soon, Phil was pressing the correct buttons on the correct device, and all the prisoners in the room were released.

"Excellent," he said. Natasha looked at the eight agents either dead or bleeding out, and swore in Russian. Clint clapped him on the back.

"I love watching you at work," he said. "It's like a dance."

"Thanks," Phil said dryly. He gave each of his agents and the Avengers a quick once-over, especially not lingering on Captain America. With a nod, he led them from the room. "Just gotta pick up a package."

He entered the ladies' bathroom – why did they even have one? – and carried out the unconscious leader over one shoulder. Tony swore this time.

"So glad you're on my side, Agent Coulson," he said. He almost sounded sincere.

"What makes you think I'm on your side specifically, Mr. Stark?"

Tony had no answer for that.

They heard the Quinjet's engine before they even reached the entrance. There'd been many sounds of shock when the others saw what Phil had done to Sunshine.

"He was not nice to my people," Phil said. "I had to make sure that if another agent of Hydra came along, he wouldn't be able to tell anyone what had happened."

"You're the best, sir," Agent Gregory said. Phil glanced from Gregory to the captain, and back again.

"That's why I'm Fury's one good eye," he said.

* * *

Judging by the language that Fury used on the conference call they _all_ heard, that affectionate nickname was currently being forgotten in favour of a thorough dressing down. Everyone else spoke up for Phil. He interrupted them to give a brief report in his calm, efficient manner. By the end, Fury still looked pissed off; but he couldn't complain about getting his teams back.

"Just don't go against orders again," he said. He hung up before Phil could say that he would make no promises. This merely confirmed his theory that Fury was psychic.

"That was incredible," Steve said, watching Phil. The agent nearly shrugged.

"The director knows all," he said.

"I was referring to your fighting, actually."

"Really?" Phil raised his eyebrows, heart racing again. "Thank you, Captain Rogers."

Then he saw Gregory out of the corner of his eye, and any hope he had simply… faded.

He ignored Steve's not-so-covert glances for the rest of the flight.

* * *

**But is there really something between Steve and Agent Gregory? (Goodness knows where I got the name from. Probably the Australian explorer. He built and owned the house our family inhabited for more than sixty years. Nifty, right?**

…**Moving on.)**

**I suck at action. I'm sure of it. If, however, you feel differently, then please reassure me. Or else I'll worry about it for ages, and probably never try to write action sequences again. At least, not for my Avengers fan fiction.**

**And no, of course her friend Evan isn't named after Chris Evans. *Clears throat subtly, and tries to look innocent***


	3. Not a Player

"Not a Player"

Sex was alright. It wasn't as great as Steve first thought, but he was sure it was just a matter of finding the right partner. (_The right dance partner_.)

Trying to get some sleep – in his own bed, for once – Steve thought over his sexual experiences since Agent Coulson.

Agent Gregory was nice. He was eager to please, and full of admiration, kind of like Coulson, except less reserved on a regular basis. Steve almost considered letting things go on; but he took awhile to get off, whereas Agent Gregory didn't take that long at all, and preferred Steve to take him, not even swapping around afterwards. But he was a good kisser.

The next few times, the agents were pretty darn intense. While it was fun and all, and he didn't last as long, it got a bit tiring. Not physically, of course. More the kind of tired from being overwhelmed.

Soon enough, he was being asked to do all sorts of things he didn't want to risk. Spanking people, tying them down, 'punishing' them when they hadn't really done anything wrong… It was too close to bullying, and he didn't like bullies. They were the reason he joined the army and became Captain America.

Captain America. That was another thing. It seemed like half of them were more interested in the superhero persona than they were in Steve. Some even went so far as to ask him to take them while he was in uniform.

Others… were too rough. It was like they were trying to best him in some kind of ridiculous competition they could never hope to win. He was actually sore afterwards with a few of the men – and women – he had sex with, even though he healed right back up by the next day. It still put him off.

But he liked being taken, and he liked reciprocating. It probably came from being a fair-minded kind of person. Give and take, even though he'd always preferred giving.

Figuring that it was probably a SHIELD thing, Steve took advantage of his nights off to go to bars and pick up someone, anyway who caught his interest. His tastes varied; he was searching for the right fit, so he had to try a little of everything, right?

"Oh, _Steve_. You're so big, so strong… oh my God, these muscles. You're so hot, you're a fiend…"

"Aren't you a big boy? But you've been waiting for a big man to take you, haven't you? I know you have. You want to be dominated…"

"Will you be play at being my daddy?" (Steve escaped that one quickly as possible.)

"Just gonna ride you… yeah, that's good… mmm, Steve, you're the best I've ever had, I just want you to know that…"

Some people seemed sincere; most of them didn't. So much was one-sided, with the other person using him to get off. At SHIELD – where everyone knew who he was – he was treated like someone he wasn't. With the people on the outside world – who had no idea that he was Captain America – they weren't interested in getting to know him.

Romance really had died, after all.

* * *

It was like Steve was trying to work his way through the Helicarrier. He tried both men and women, kissing some of them, bedding most. No one ever spoke about their encounters; Fury had made sure of this, for which Phil was eternally grateful. He couldn't have stood hearing about his childhood hero playing the field like this from the people directly involved.

He heard two familiar voices as he rounded the corner, returning from a meeting with the director. He paused outside the door, which had been left ajar. So it wasn't a secret liaison. It was probably just as well. Pepper would kill Tony if he had even a one-time fling with Captain America (without her).

"…starting to wonder whether you're trying to follow in my footsteps, Capsicle."

"Shut up, Tony. If you dragged me in here to insult me—"

"Hey, imitation is the sincerest form, right? Who's insulting you?"

"I just… I'm trying to find someone good, that's all. Someone right."

"I know a lot of people. Just tell me your type, and I'll find someone."

Phil pulled away, feeling sick. It was all right to joke that his sister was being a pimp. But the idea of Stark setting up Steve with one of his past hook-ups was a completely new level of wrong.

"Hang on," Tony said. "Didn't you get together with Agent What's-Her-Face? The one with the mole on her neck and the high-pitched laughter, and Thor thought she should've been a guy?"

"Agent Samson?"

"That's right. 'Son of Sam'."

"Yes."

"Rumour mill says that she gives a hell of a good blowjob. And when I say rumour mill, I mean Clint. Wild in the sack generally, he said. Didn't she do a good job?"

"It wasn't… _enough_. No one's been good enough."

"Jesus Christ, Rogers, how picky can you get?"

"Don't blaspheme, Stark."

Phil was thankful for his 'ninja-like' skills as he hurried back to his office. Shut inside, door locked, and security cameras blocked for five minutes, he made a phone call.

"Anna? Yeah, your friend interested in a date?"

* * *

Phil was humming as he dressed for dinner. He was meeting Evan at a Thai restaurant four blocks away, so he needed to wear something comfortable for walking, as well as for combat when he returned. It also needed to be something which wouldn't cause comment, since he was known for his plain old suits. (Not that he considered them either plain or old. That was just how most people viewed them.)

It was four days since he heard Tony and Steve talking, and he'd put the conversation out of his mind to the best of his ability. What his Avengers got up to in their private lives was none of his business, as far as he was concerned. Not unless he was a part of it; and he wasn't, so it wasn't.

Tugging the bottom of his jacket to make sure it rested properly, he turned from the mirror and grabbed everything he'd need. Wallet, keys, pass card for the SHIELD base he was currently stationed at, a few other things, all tucked into their designated pockets.

With one last inspection, he nodded, then walked to his door.

In one of the corridors he met Steve, and tried to avoid his gaze.

"Agent Coulson!"

Phil sighed internally as he turned to give Steve his attention.

"I'm on my way out, so I can only give you five minutes of my time, Captain Rogers," he said. Steve nodded seriously.

"I was just wondering… uh, how you are," he said. Phil frowned.

"I'm well, captain," he said.

"Good. Good… We don't get to see you dressed casually." He gestured to Phil's clothes which were, he guessed, casual when compared to his usual work clothes.

"I've got a date."

"You… you've got a date?"

"Yes. Is there a problem, Rogers?"

"What? No, no, of course not. Have fun."

"I plan to," Phil muttered as he passed. "Have a good night, captain."

"Sir."

Phil paused at the odd tone, and turned back. "Are you sure there isn't a problem?"

"Do you date much? I haven't heard about you dating before, that's all."

"We've known each other for a matter of months, Captain Rogers, not years."

"I'm pretty sure someone would've mentioned it, though. There's so much gossip around that…" Steve shrugged. "Forget it."

"Have you ever dated?"

"Uh, no. I lost that chance."

"There are more chances out there; you've been with enough people to know that."

Steve's eyes narrowed. "What're you saying?"

"That I've heard the gossip, too," Phil said, taking a step closer. "I've heard about all the men and women you've slept with in SHIELD, and all the people you've apparently met outside of work as well. Do you ever date any of them?"

"No. It's just sex."

Phil had to force his teeth to unclench. "I'm disappointed in you, captain."

"What? Hey, you have no right to say that!"

"I have every right! I've admired you since childhood, I was part of the security detail while you were unconscious thanks to the Arctic. I now work with you, and I… I was your first." He lowered his voice. "You've always seemed upstanding. I know that was just supposed to be part of your role, but you _are_ upstanding. It's just who you are, captain. And I thought that couldn't change. If I'd known…" He shook his head. "If I'd known that losing your virginity would change you into this person now standing before me, I would never have played any part in it."

"But—"

"No. I know you're not just Captain America, but he comes from inside of you, and I can't respect how you've been treating people. Nor can I respect how you've let them treat you. You've been cheapening yourself, and them, through your actions." He tried to keep it together. "If you want to keep this up, then fine. I'm not telling you how to run your life; I don't have any right to, and I would hate it if someone else did the same to me. But it disappoints me that you still have so little self-respect that you'd play the workplace whore because of one night – one big mistake – with me."

He turned on his heel and walked away, reminding himself that he had a date, and he needed time to calm down before he met Evan.

Still, his conversation with Steve haunted him as he drove. He'd been harsh, and Steve hadn't provoked him in any way. At least he'd only said one part of what he felt, and it was the less incriminating part. He was stupid to feel any kind of affection for a man who dismissed love-making as 'just sex'. Admittedly, Steve hadn't participated much during their evening together. It was his first time, so of course he wasn't going to be as involved. A little more animation would have been nice, but Phil wasn't picky.

That's why his heart was broken, and he was going on a blind date with a friend of his sister.

What would they even talk about? Annabel was an obvious choice. Ex-boyfriends was a no-go area. Phil couldn't talk about work without lying, or at the very least without being extremely vague. Weather, food, literature, films, television, sports, and music (of course). They'd have to do. Hopefully they would find something in common so that the conversation wouldn't just peter out.

Parking the car, Phil hesitated, gripping the steering wheel with both hands and wondering why the hell he was venturing on a mission doomed to failure.

He shook himself out of this self-pitying mood, got out of the car, and looked around.

And that was when he saw Evan.

* * *

Steve kicked the foot of his bed, trying to think of a different bar or dance hall he could visit to find someone new.

Trying was the operative word here. In reality, his mind kept drifting back to Phil's outburst.

It all seemed to spill out of the usually-placid agent, like he'd been waiting to say it for a long time. Maybe he had? It didn't excuse him from using the phrase 'workplace whore'… which didn't hurt as much as when he'd said that their night together was a mistake. It may've led Steve to his – to use the vernacular – bed-hopping; but he liked sex! Really, he did. All the kisses and gentle touches, the whispers of affection…

Were things he dreamed about. They didn't happen in reality. Phrases like 'I love you' and 'We'll be together forever' and 'Don't let me go' featured heavily in his fantasies. He tried to picture them with his latest bed-mate, each time he'd been with someone, starting with Agent Gregory. They never seemed right, so he'd kept searching.

Unable to think any further than Agent Coulson, Steve collapsed onto his bed, making it creak again. Sighing, he thought over recent events.

First, there'd been that miraculous rescue Phil had pulled off, when he took out twenty Hydra agents in less than an hour, barely breaking a sweat. The image of that guy named Sunshine, with his tongue and fingertips cut off, had given Steve nightmares; the thought that Phil really could be that ruthless, despite his calm demeanour, was shiver-inducing.

Second, there'd been tonight. Phil losing his temper and giving Steve a thorough dressing down over his unchivalrous behaviour. Steve had no idea how dates went these days, and they always seemed to end in sex, from what he'd heard and seen. Why not cut out the middle bit, and see if they were compatible in bed before feelings could come into the equation and complicate matters?

Feelings…

He lay back, eyes slamming shut, and tried to picture a nameless, faceless person this time, stripping him, caressing his flesh, sheathing himself until he was sitting on Steve's pelvis, hot and tight. He was leaning over, kissing Steve's chest, neck, lips. He was tilting his head to murmur sweet nothings, and even sweeter somethings.

'_I love you, Steve.'_

"I love you, too, Phil," Steve whispered, the image now taking form in his head. It felt familiar; this was how Phil had moved that night, and touched him, kissed him, spoken to him. They weren't the same words, but the meaning was there in every syllable.

That was when his eyes snapped open again, and he sat up abruptly.

He had fallen for Agent Coulson, who now hated him, and was out on a date.

Feeling very small and alone, Steve pulled his knees up to his chin, held on, and proceeded to feel sorry for himself.

* * *

**Diddums.**

**Really, Steve? Sleeping around like this? Tut, tut.**

**Okay, I'll stop judging. This is just the way the prompt went. Well, kind of. I didn't mean for Steve to fall in love with Phil by this stage! It's just supposed to be a crush!**

**Gah!**

**I hope you're enjoying things nonetheless. I've only planned for five chapters, so you're more than halfway there. Hurrah! However, romantic complications and whatnot still need to happen, which means that chapter four will be quite long, and possibly chapter five as well. Please stick around for it.**


	4. Evan

"Evan"

Phil nearly tripped over his words as he shook hands with his sister's friend. Evan was just a little taller than Phil, had short, dark hair, and big brown eyes which shone with friendliness. He had actual dimples, and some charming freckles peppering the bridge of his nose.

How could anyone hurt someone this adorable?

"You don't mind Thai?" Evan said, gesturing towards the restaurant. Phil thought it was better just to shake his head, and trail behind Evan. His jacket was dark blue, his shirt was light blue, and… he was wearing a vest. A dark brown vest, which brought out the colour of his chocolate-y eyes.

"Been here before?" Phil asked as they sat down. Evan shook his head, and smiled shyly.

"Wanted to, though," he said. "A childhood friend recommended it to me a couple of years ago, but I haven't seen him in a long time. I wouldn't even know where to start looking for him. He never liked computers very much."

Phil nodded, and they didn't speak again until they ordered their food and drink, agreeing to share a couple of plates.

"Anna said you couldn't really talk about your work," Evan said while Phil was trying to think of a safe topic. "That's okay. Hey, you don't have to look so relaxed. I don't push sensitive subjects. Not… not anymore."

Phil had indeed relaxed, but he tensed again. "Thanks. Uh, Anna told me about—"

"About Brian?" Evan shrugged. "It's in the past. That bastard got what was coming to him. When it was brought to trial, other exes of his turned up to testify. I guess it helped me get some kind of immediate – at least partial – closure, knowing that it wasn't just me."

"Of course it wasn't," Phil said softly. "You're too nice to be blamed for something like that."

Evan chuckled. "We've only just met," he said. But he was blushing, and Phil felt lighter than he had in a long time.

"I'd be able to tell if you were a low-life," he said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "And Anna wouldn't set me up with someone she didn't already like. I haven't known her all that long, but she's a good judge of character. Most of the time," he added, remembering James. It seemed that Evan knew about him, because he grimaced.

"She's lucky to have someone like you," he said.

"And you were lucky to have her as well, I gather."

"Yeah. Must be something about Coulsons; they're bad-ass, and they protect the people they care about." He drank some of his water, then made a small sound, and pulled a small box out of his vest pocket. "Can't forget to have these after dinner. But before dessert, to get rid of the taste." He winked, and it was only Phil's concern that stopped him from turning pink.

"What are they?" he asked. "Sorry. You don't have to answer that. I gather it's some kind of medication you have to take with food?"

"Yep," Evan said. He flipped the box open, and Phil saw a couple of white tablets. "Heart meds. Problem is they look like aspirin. My ex…" He winced, and closed the box, placing it neatly beside his glass of water. "He kept replacing them, and they're so much a part of my routine that I'd just take them without noticing. It was when I had a heart attack during rehearsal, and Annabel saw the bruises on my chest and arms when she took off my vest and shirt… That's when she forced me to report Brian. Don't give me that worried look; I always keep extras stashed away now, and I'm obsessively careful about checking."

"Good," Phil said, hands shaking in suppressed rage at the injustice. "Not that it happened, but good that it's over with. Good that you're careful now."

Evan laughed again. "Yeah. Anna was pretty fierce about it. She carries some with her when she knows we're gonna be meeting."

Phil's left eyebrow lifted involuntarily. "Really?"

"She's a good friend. The best."

"I know," Phil said, ducking his head. He met Evan's eyes slowly. "She set up this date, after all."

Evan beamed. Before he could speak, their food was brought out. It was halfway through the meal when he brought up the other side of the topic.

"Anna said you were having problems," he said. "With a guy."

"Yeah. Just… just someone at work." Evan arched a brow, and Phil caved. "I've ado— admired him a long time, and he asked me to have sex with him." Evan blushed again, and Phil damn near swooned at the sight. "And, uh… yeah, sorry. Got distracted there. I did it; i-it was his first time, and I wanted to make sure it'd be okay. But it mustn't have been, because he left afterwards. He was nice about it, but that's just his nature."

"Doesn't sound like it," Evan said, frowning, and Phil wished that he'd just smile again. "Not if he left you like that."

"As I said, it was probably my fault…"

"Now," Evan said, and he took a sip of his wine. And he subtly eyed Phil up and down (what he could see, anyway). "That I find hard to believe."

Phil half-smirked, chasing a few recalcitrant noodles. "What are you suggesting?" he asked.

"Nothing. Yet. I don't put out on a first date." Phil's fork scraped the plate, sending the noodles to the opposite corners again. "In a few dates' time, maybe. Y-you know." He suddenly seemed nervous, looking down. "If you want to go on any more dates. I'll understand if you don't."

Phil studied him, hating how such a pretty creature, with the most darling nature, could be so unsure of himself.

"Of course I do," he said gently. Evan looked up at that. "We haven't even talked about our likes and dislikes yet."

Evan laughed, stopping abrupt as he clapped a hand over his mouth. "Really? You'd like to go out with me again?"

"As long as you're not against the idea."

"No," Evan said, lowering his hand. "No, of course not. I'd like to see you again."

"Is that one of your likes?"

"It is. And so is this restaurant. I like this restaurant. And I _don't_ like," he popped open his pill box, "medication which dissolves instantly, so don't make me laugh while I'm taking these, okay?"

"Sure thing," Phil said, having more of his wine. Evan had only had half a glass of wine, and took his tablets with water. It reminded Phil of his morning tablets.

The fact that this young man – this gorgeous, healthy-looking young man – needed to take regular medication made Phil feel less old.

He felt even younger when their feet brushed together under the table.

* * *

Whoever Phil's boyfriend was, the agent was happier than pretty much anyone had ever seen him. Steve was happy for him. Really. Whoever was so wonderful that Phil was nearly constantly smiling – except when he was intimidating young and/or new agents – was okay in Steve's book.

Except for the fact that he wasn't. Because Steve was jealous. He'd been stupid. He always thought he'd find someone (like Bucky or Peggy) who'd be his first and his only, even if they had to hide it (Bucky) or could marry and have children (Peggy). Fidelity forever.

He and Phil hadn't been going out. Steve had allowed himself to get caught up in the modern way of courtship, i.e. the lack thereof. Sex was supposed to be great; and it was. It was, when you were with the right person.

Steve had found the right person.

Now he'd lost him.

Yeah, it could be worse. Phil really could have died – well, stayed dead – after Loki skewered him. Steve preferred to see Phil with someone else rather than never see him at all.

Didn't make it hurt any less.

"Agent, what's this I heard about someone leaving your room this morning?" Tony asked from across the table. He was watching Phil as the agent clipped papers back onto his board, letting the metal bounce back with a loud snap. Bruce was the only one who jumped at the sound.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Stark," Phil said, standing. Tony swivelled around in his chair.

"Yes, you do," he said, drawing out the first word. "Talk, dark, and handsome. Tight jeans showing off a nice ass. And Pepper agreed with me about the ass, by the way; she checked the security footage for me. Then she kind of yelled at me for spying on you."

"I wonder why," Phil said dryly.

"I just like to keep track of my people," Tony said, kicking the air. "C'mon, Agent. That was your boyfriend, right?"

Phil looked annoyed. "Of course he was boyfriend, Stark. I'm not a philanderer. That's not how I swing, to use the vernacular."

Tony raised his hands in surrender. "I didn't mean that. I just should've believed her when she said you weren't single anymore. You're not the kind to cheat on anyone. It's obvious. You're too… decent a guy for that."

Steve could feel his own cheeks reddening as he thought about his activities. They'd stopped once he realised his feelings for Phil, and he couldn't even think about anyone else in that way.

"Thank you, Stark," Phil said. He seemed less tense. "It means a lot – and I'll deny saying this – but it does mean a lot to me."

"He looks cute. We should meet him. Pep's already suggested a double-date. Want in?"

"She mentioned it to me already, too. Sounds good. We'll talk details later."

It was so serious that Pepper wanted to meet him, and wanted to do a double-date?

If Steve had even considered maybe having a chance, that was all blown to heck now.

* * *

"Really don't know what you were so afraid of," Evan said, breathing heavily as he and Phil lay side by side. "God, that was good. Unless you were having an off night – and you're too damn competent for something like that to happen – he just doesn't appreciate quality." He rolled onto his side, and Phil shivered as his gaze ran down, then back up Phil's body. "And you, Phillip Coulson, are quality."

Phil bit his lower lip as Evan traced paths through the release that decorated Phil's chest.

"We've been together for three months now," he said. "Keep saying things like that, and it won't be much longer before I start falling in love with you. And that's problematic."

Evan's finger paused. "You don't want to be in love with me?"

"Not while you should be with someone else."

"But… why would you… Don't you want me?"

"Yes, and it feels selfish. I am a selfish man, or I can be. I have been selfish, with you."

Evan shook his head. "I don't understand."

"I mean that…" Phil sighed, and pulled Evan down close so that he could kiss him deeply, just for a few seconds. "Look. Whenever you've suggested going to a place, it's been because your childhood friend, Dennis, told you about it, and you always look wistful. I know you haven't seen him in a long time, and don't know how to find him. I, however, am very good at finding people."

"You mean… you could find him?"

"This is what I mean. I've been selfish. I really do care about you, so much that I can't keep the information from you any longer." He hesitated, then stood, leaving behind the sheets as he approached his bedside table. He opened his tie drawer, dug beneath, and pulled out several pieces of paper. "Based on the information you told me I was able to locate him." He couldn't bring himself to look at Evan as he handed him the documentation. "I'm sorry I didn't give this to you sooner. I found him almost two weeks after we started dating. I just didn't want to lose you, like I lost…"

Evan nodded; Phil could see that much. "But you didn't lose your co-worker. He left you."

"We were never even together."

"But we were." Phil raised his head. Evan didn't look mad; a bit hurt, but not mad. "I don't blame you. I don't even know whether Dennis is… like us at all, or whether he'd even be interested in meeting up as friends."

"You still have to give it a shot. I can't stop you."

"Phil… you're a great guy, really. If the dating world worked like the business world, I'd give you a solid gold reference and help Anna vet potential dates." Phil laughed softly. "In fact, I'll still do the date thing. And… and if this doesn't work out…" He held up the papers. Phil shook his head.

"You're not made for this world," he said, referring to the building they were in. Evan, as always, didn't ask questions about it, other than to check that there were no security cameras in the bedroom. "And Steve… I've tried to get over him, and maybe if you and I stayed together for long enough, I could finally move on. Even fall in love with you, as I said. But it wouldn't be fair to use you like that."

Evan smiled, stroking the paper between his fingers. "Thanks for this, and for being honest. Eventually." He winked when Phil coughed, and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "We can still be friends, can't we? I'd like that."

Phil sighed as he stared at Evan. "You're so beautiful. I'd hate you to be spoiled. But yeah. I'd like to be friends. Let me know how things go with Dennis."

"I will."

Evan left soon after, and they kissed one last time – a good-bye kiss – outside SHIELD.

"I'll miss you," Phil said.

"I'll miss the sex," Evan said blithely. He quickly turned serious. "But especially you."

"Go home; get some sleep. In the morning, you've got a friend to track down."

Evan nodded slowly. He gave Phil a hug before getting into the taxi and closing the door.

Phil sighed, and trudged back inside after seeing the cab safely off.

A couple more months and he would've been in love. Real love, if it wasn't for Evan's unconscious – now fully awake – romantic pining for his long lost friend.

He wondered what Anna would say.

* * *

"You idiot, Phillip Coulson! I set you up with a perfectly nice guy, who pretty much every straight woman in the orchestra has a crush on, including me… and you dump him!"

"I let him go," Phil said. "I don't even think the words were used. I gave him the option of finding his friend, and maybe starting something. I would've been just as happy for Evan to stay with me."

"…You really care about him, don't you?"

"If I'd let it go on much longer, it would've been harder – impossible to let go."

"And if you weren't so hung up on Captain America," she grumbled.

"_He_ had no bearing on my decision," Phil said. "I want a chance to get over him. Evan could've been that chance, if there wasn't the possibility that he would always be wondering, or my fear that he would be settling. I don't want someone to settle for me. Well." He chuckled humourlessly. "Not someone as nice as Evan."

"You like playing the knight in shining armour, don't you?"

"My armour's more than a bit dented."

She sighed. "That's better. You're a knight with experience."

Phil smiled. It was bittersweet. He almost wished he had a phone cord to wind around his finger. "Thanks, Annabel."

* * *

Steve kept replaying the image he had seen late last night, while he'd been winding down in the gym. Looking out the windows as he drank down half a bottle of water, he'd seen Phil and his boyfriend, kissing sweetly outside a taxi. Whether they were coming or going, he didn't know. And he didn't care. He wasn't Hawkeye, but he could see the affection in the embrace, the passion in the kiss.

He'd gone to bed, dejected. Now he was pummelling out his frustration on a Stark-designed punching bag. SHIELD had commissioned bags specially for Steve, and for Thor when he was around. They were also trying to train the Hulk how to fight properly, rather than just smash. Tony was getting through to him the most, which was actually unsurprising.

Sighing, Steve clutched the bag, wishing that it was Phil he was holding onto. He wished even more that this was a crush, like the crush he'd had on Bucky, and then on Peggy. Okay, they were pretty strong crushes, and he'd been heartbroken to lose both his friends. But Phil was still here, and Steve had actually had a chance with him. He would still have a real chance, if it wasn't for Phil's boyfriend, and if it wasn't for his own actions.

Steve never actually met the guy; but Tony and Pepper had been raving about him all day after their double-date, to the point where Clint had asked when the double-wedding was. Pepper hit the back of his head, and Phil blushed.

Blushes could be so telling. In this case, it probably meant that the relationship was serious, the long-term, probably happily-ever-after kind of serious that Steve wanted with Phil.

"Hey, Steve," Natasha said, appearing behind him. He jumped. Usually he was better at being able to tell when someone was there.

"Good morning, Agent Romanov," he said.

"Hmm." She rounded the bag. "You're awfully formal this morning. What's on your mind?"

"Nothing."

"Are you lying to me?"

That would be bad. "Yes. And I'm sorry. But it's nothing for you to worry about."

She jumped, catching the top of the bag and hauling herself up neatly so that she was basically sitting there, legs curved elegantly around the strings, hands on her knees.

"You're one of my people," she said. "Of course it's something for me to worry about."

Steve was touched, and couldn't help shooting her a small smile. She returned it with a slight upwards tilt at the corner of her mouth.

"It's about… it's about Phil," he said, pushing the bag. It rocked back and forth; Natasha simply sat there, perfectly composed, watching him. "I did something stupid."

"It didn't cause the break-up, did it?"

"The what?"

"Clint was in the vents above Phil's office, and heard that Phil and Evan broke up. Sounds like it was mutual."

Steve wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to be the reason. It would be terrible if he was; but if it meant that he had a chance…

"We had sex," he blurted out. He noticed Natasha's eyes narrowing, and he realised what it must have sounded like. "Phil and me. This was ages ago, way before… Evan. Before the rescue, for that matter. He was… he was my first."

"Your first…? Oh." She nodded, and then un-crossed and re-crossed her legs. "What happened?"

"Well, I left. Then I started… you know…"

Her face darkened, and she slid down from the bag. He took a step back.

"Did you hurt him?" she asked.

"If I did, I didn't mean to. I just thought that's how things were done nowadays. That you 'get together' with someone once, and move on. And there aren't many relationships between people in SHIELD. Look how many were willing to do it with me!"

"They have low standards," she said. Steve flinched. "Did you explain this to Phil?"

"Of course not! He knows everything. Why would he need it explained?"

"Did he give you the choice to stay?" Steve nodded. "Why didn't you?"

"Because… well, I didn't want to impose."

"And because you wished to sow your wild corn elsewhere."

"I'm pretty sure that's wild… Never mind."

"Rogers, I'm now giving you a chance to work out what you want," she said.

"I already know what I want."

"And what is that?"

"I… I just want to be with Phil. No one else. And I don't want anyone else with him, unless they make him happy."

"Can you make him happy?"

"I don't know. I-I can try."

"Then try," she said. "Not now; he's going through a fresh break-up. But no more dalliances in the meantime. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am." He resisted the urge to salute her.

But he didn't hold out any kind of hope. Steve knew that he'd lost Phil, and he was better off just staying away from the agent outside of work until he could get over these stupid feelings.

* * *

**Wasn't sure how long this would be. Then I took out the Natasha conversation. And put it back in (obviously). I've decided that there should be plenty in the last chapter, and I don't want to overdo it/overwhelm you.**

**I wrote the first 2400-odd words one night, which made it late getting to sleep. Mind you, the weather was partly to blame when it came to my sleeplessness. Finishing this at a more reasonable hour, especially since I've got TAFE tomorrow.**

**Review, silver-place (as Mum would say)!**


	5. Their Second Chance

"Their Second Chance"

It was Natasha's fault. Steve would never have even considered going to Phil's office if it wasn't for her. Literally. She marched him up to the door at gun-point. He could've taken the bullet and just healed quickly; but he didn't want her to get into trouble for shooting 'a national icon', so he just went along with it. It's not like she was going to stay out there all day.

He knocked, and Phil called, "Come in!"

"Go on," Natasha said, poking him in the back. "I'll give you your privacy. Don't let me down, Rogers; I'm putting my faith in you."

Steve's head swivelled around. "Really?"

"Yes."

"…Okay," he said. Her trust was a big thing to have. No matter what happened, or how much he was risking, he was going to tell Phil how he felt. For Natasha's sake.

"Well?" Phil asked. Steve took a deep breath, and then opened the door.

Phil looked up. His gaze flicked to Natasha. "Can I help you both with something?"

"I'm leaving," she said, and she tried to push Steve forward. She huffed; it wasn't his fault that he was immovable. "I told you, go on."

"I'm going," he said, and he stepped into the room. She slammed the door closed, and he jumped forward a step, missing the edge of the door by inches. Phil raised an eyebrow, and went back to his work.

"How can I help you, Captain Rogers?"

"I, uh, I need to s-say something."

"You sound unsure," Phil said, and he glanced up. "Is it important?"

Steve exhaled slowly, maintaining eye contact with him. "Very."

"Very well." He put down his pen, then linked his fingers and rested his arms on the desk. "Would you care to sit down?"

"I probably should," Steve admitted. (In case his legs began to shake.) He lowered himself onto the seat, and shifted to give the impression that he was trying to get comfortable. But there was no way he was going to feel comfortable in this situation, not until it was over and done with.

"What's on your mind, captain?"

"You," Steve blurted. He'd have to go the whole way now. "I shouldn't have let you go. I know you weren't mine to begin with, and, well, I should've changed that. But I didn't know I wanted that until too late, and Natasha told me to tell you this but I'm not sure it's making me feel any better and please say something, Phil." He took a quick breath in, and then chewed his lower lip while he watched the agent trying to scrape his jaw off the carpet.

Phil was just about to reply when there was a knock, and Pepper walked in.

"Oh! Hi, Steve," she said, and she squeezed his shoulder. "Phil, is it true you broke up with Evan?"

"Y-yeah."

"Why the hell would you do that?"

"He didn't know he was pining after someone else until I pointed it out. I wasn't going to hold onto him when I realised that. Much longer, and I would've been beyond the point of no return." Phil was playing with the pen. "It was better to part now."

"I thought things were pretty serious," she said.

"Mmm."

Steve was sure his face was about to burst into flames. Pepper was leaning against his chair, and it didn't seem like she was ready to move anytime soon. If only his tongue would work. If only his _legs_ would work. Then he could've made his excuses and escaped.

"What're you doing tonight?" she asked.

"Meeting up with Annabel."

"Is the orchestra coming to New York sometime? Tony would hire them for a private performance."

"Not yet. Still in Portland."

Portland? This 'Annabel' must be the cellist. Steve's heart sank. So much for waiting a decent amount of time. Phil was already moving on. Surely this was too fast, even by today's standards?

"Send her my love," Pepper said. "See you later, Steve."

"Yeah," he said softly. "See you later, Miss Potts."

The door hadn't even closed when Steve was on his feet.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have come here. I didn't know… I thought you had broken up with her for good, b-before I approached you. Then there was Evan, and now you're going back to your cellist, and I… I never had a chance, did I? Even if I did, I ruined it at the start, and I can't apologise enough, so I'll just go—"

He was touching the door handle when Phil's voice rang out like a gunshot.

"Don't you dare open that door, soldier! Now come sit back down, or I will ensure that you're written up for disobeying orders. Do you want to face disciplinary action?" Steve looked at him, wide-eyed, and shook his head. "Back here, Captain Rogers."

Steve returned to his seat, apprehensive. He couldn't meet Phil's eyes, and instead stared at his hands, which were curled up in his lap. He could, however, tell that Phil was moving around the desk towards him, and waited for the inevitable rejection.

It didn't come. Instead, there was a hand on his upper back, and the other cupped his left cheek and turned his head. Steve gazed up at the agent, more ashamed than he'd ever been.

"Annabel is my half-sister," Phil said softly. "We only found each other a few years ago. My father got her mother pregnant while my parents were separated. They divorced, and I didn't want to know this girl who'd taken away my dad. I was only nine when this all started. But when he died, she and I met at the funeral, and decided it was stupid not to be friends. It wasn't our fault that he was a philanderer. And she's the best sister a guy could ask for, so I don't mind. I love her." He shrugged. "I don't know what she'll say about us, though. You're not one of her favourite people."

"Us?"

Phil hesitated, then bent so that he was looking Steve straight in the eye, only a breath away. "Steve, you can leave now if you want. I'm not going to hold you to any declarations of regret, or read too much into them."

"I love you," Steve whispered.

"…Think about this first," Phil said, even though he blinked rapidly. "Go away, think through everything a relationship would entail, whether you really mean those words, any potential backlash which may drive you away and just b-break my heart all over again." He visibly swallowed. "Just think about it."

"You don't want this? If you don't, just say so—"

"Of course I want this," Phil said, and he rested his forehead against Steve's, eyes sliding shut. "I shouldn't, not after all that happened, but I do. However, it's not entirely my decision."

"I told you my feelings," Steve said. He didn't want to move and break this moment. "It _is_ up to you, Phil."

"Don't you understand?" Phil asked, his eyes snapping back open. "I'm giving you an out here. If you don't think you can handle this kind of relationship then for God's sake don't allow it to start, because I couldn't take it if you broke up with me."

Steve stood then. "Don't you get that I'm strong enough for this? I'm not the kid from Brooklyn whose medical files would've needed a trolley to transport them, if we could've afforded better health care. And even if I was still that kid, and not Captain America, I'd still be strong enough to hold onto you for the rest of our lives! Because… because I want to, Phil. I want you. Forever."

Phil continued to study him; but now that he knew his feelings were reciprocated, Steve wasn't moving. He didn't move until he saw Phil relax, and reach for him. Then Steve tilted his head down, and their lips met.

* * *

Steve insisted on having a date first, to set Phil apart from everyone else. Not that he wasn't already special; he was Steve's first, he was the one that Steve loved. But with love involved, it couldn't all just be sex, and he wanted to prove it. He had to prove it. And Phil wasn't going to argue with that.

With the limited amount of time they had off, and with a few missions that Phil had to supervise, it was nearly three weeks before they could make it to bed. Steve would've held out longer, since they'd just been cleared from medical, but Phil basically shut them in Steve's room and talked the clothes off them both.

"We should be waiting," Steve said, slightly dazed. "I haven't done enough to make up for—"

"Lie down, soldier."

"Uh…" Steve lay back on the bed. "Phil, I don't understand. You agreed to taking this slow."

"It was a relatively easy mission today," Phil said, straddling Steve's thighs. "Next time it might not be. Next time, one of us might not make it back. I'm still learning how to entrust my heart to you after everything and everyone that happened; I want to be able to take my time, not rush things. But you've earned my forgiveness, and I know the rest will happen one day." He leaned down, holding Steve's arms and resting their foreheads together. "Steve, I would hate to say yes, we'll do this tonight, only for one of us to be killed… and never get the chance to be together again. And when you think about it, you'll never age. Assuming we both lived another fifty years, you'd still be young, I… I wouldn't be—"

"That doesn't matter to me, Phil."

"And it shouldn't to me. But we're both more likely to die in battle. A battle that could happen any day. And if we missed our chance…" He was gazing so intensely into Steve's eyes that the soldier's heart stuttered. "Could either of us live with that?"

"I don't want to miss any more chances," Steve said.

"I know. Neither do I."

"It'll be different this time. I promise."

"I know."

They kissed for awhile, neither in a hurry to move any faster now that they had the rest of the night off. Steve pushed Phil onto his back and peppered his face with light kisses. Phil stroked the back of his neck, eventually pulling him in to meet his lips again, this time with more gusto. Several minutes passed before Phil flipped them over.

"So handsome," he whispered, continuing to kiss his way down Steve's chest. "So beautifully made. God, your parents did a good job."

"That's the serum," Steve said, watching Phil with intense interest.

"You're forgetting." Phil bit the patch of skin just below Steve's navel. "The first pictures I ever saw of you were from before the serum." He kissed the bite mark, and Steve groaned. "I thought you were beautiful then."

"Really?"

"Mmm-_hmm_."

"God, I love you, Phil."

Phil smiled up at him, then lunged forward for another hungry kiss. He retreated, and continued to touch and caress Steve's body. That warm feeling began to flare inside Steve, echoes of the tenderness from their first night, every brush of skin against skin…

"You're the only one who's ever made love to me," he said. When Phil raised his head, Steve cupped his cheek. "Can I make it up to you? Can I make love to you?"

Phil nodded speechlessly, and lay back down beside Steve, who promptly took his position over the agent once more. This time, he nuzzled Phil's left ear first, and placed a tiny kiss on the lobe. He absent-mindedly pulled Phil's knees up either side, allowing the agent to cage him in, and rubbed their erections together as he rocked forward. Phil whimpered – actually _whimpered_ – and one of his legs wrapped around Steve's lower back and pulled him closer. Steve nipped and sucked little bruises onto Phil's collarbone in the shape of a star. He'd have to take a picture later so that Phil could see it for himself.

"Are you going to take me?" Steve nodded, and continued to taste the skin before him, licking up perspiration and sucking each nipple. "Condoms? Lube?"

"Drawer," he muttered. When Phil began to move, Steve pushed him back down, and grabbed the required items. He kept getting distracted by Phil thrusting two lubricated fingers into himself, nearly tearing the condom as he pulled it on. He rubbed some of the oil onto himself, and threw the bottle aside. Phil used his bent leg to pull Steve towards him, and groaned as he was filled slowly. Steve trembled as he pushed inside, enchanted by Phil's expression of ecstasy.

"That's it," Phil said hoarsely. He opened his eyes, eyes which had darkened considerably. "God, Steve. Move."

Their gazes never broke, not until Steve kissed Phil again, consuming him as their movements quickened. As they reached their peak together, Phil pulled Steve all the way in and held him there, not letting him go. Breaths mingled, gasps became more frequent, and they remained connected for as long as possible. When Steve finally slipped out, he rolled to the side and tugged Phil close.

"I'm not leaving," he said. "Not unless you kick me out."

"I won't," Phil said, and he sighed, the warm puff tickling Steve's chest. "I've waited a long time. I was ready to forgive you long before I did. Probably because I wanted this so much. And." He sighed. "We had this one night. If we never have another, we've had this one."

He fell asleep before Steve could reassure him that they would have plenty of nights – and days – together. But there was always tomorrow, and tomorrow, and to—

And Steve fell asleep as well.

* * *

**Oops. Slightly morbid note, but never fear! Let your imaginations take you… wherever.**

**It was pointed out to me by one of my readers (you know who you are) that it would be unrealistic for Phil to take Steve back too soon, but what can I say? I can be a bit impatient. Also, I don't think they really have time to stuff around when working for SHIELD, as so many fix-it fics have pointed out. I think Phil will need to sit down with Steve and go over basic rules when it comes to relationships, so that Steve will be less confused about what the norm may be.**

**For the time being, however, another fic finished.**

**Did you notice that the bit from the beginning of the first chapter was in this? Yeah. That was the intention all along. Aren't I clever? Bringing it all full circle.**


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